


Fare Thee Well

by TheSilverQueen



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: #FarewellOppy, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Angst with a Happy Ending, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 06:57:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17844578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSilverQueen/pseuds/TheSilverQueen
Summary: Mars Exploration Rover 3 and Mars Exploration Rover 4 are rovers destined for the stars: to travel where no one else can go, to explore where no one else has been, and to discover what no one else has uncovered.The scientists nickname them "Hannibal" and "Will".This is their love story.





	Fare Thee Well

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadybrokenTeacup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadybrokenTeacup/gifts).



> Dedicated to LadybrokenTeacup, who knows exactly why :)
> 
> This story is based (very, very lightly) upon the story of Spirit and Opportunity, the two Mars rovers launched back in 2004. Spirit's journey ended around 2010-2011, but Opportunity's journey was only recently declared finished. Someone translated Opportunity's final words to the approximation of "It is dark and my battery is getting low". Once upon a time, a little me wanted to be an astronomer, so my muse just seized those words and ran with them. Farewell, Oppy.
> 
> The title is inspired by the song 10,000 Miles from the 1996 film Fly Away Home.

MER-4 is born in a lab. To any outsider, perhaps, he is not so different from anyone else on Earth: he is born in a room filled with bright lights and white walls, surrounded by proud and excited parents who make a flurry of phone calls to relay the news of his awakening. He is the product of years and years of hard work and tears and hopes and dreams. His early years are spent learning: coordination, problem-solving, listening. His parents are full of praise and high hopes for his future.

Of course, MER-4 isn’t like everyone else on Earth.

Because MER-4, formally known as Mars Exploration Rover 4, is a robot destined for the stars, to travel where no one else can go, to explore where no one else has been, and to discover what no one else has uncovered.

They nickname him “Will” – the little rover whose will defines him above all else.

* * *

Will isn’t alone, of course. His home is a laboratory filled with hundreds, if not thousands, of Will’s siblings, past and present and future. More specifically, Will has a twin brother, equal in size and weight and birth date, formally called the MER-3.

They nickname the MER-3 “Hannibal”, because whenever they tell the rover to explore something, instead of taking samples of simulated Martian surfaces and materials like he is designed to, he starts attempting to cannibalize everything in sight, whether it be samples or equipment or other rovers.

This is, perhaps, why their parents are very cautious about introducing the two of them. But their parents are scientists, and burning at the heart of every scientist is a little thing called curiosity, and so the decision is made. Will and Hannibal are carefully led into a room with their parents biting the nails of one hand and preparing to document with the other, and then they are let loose to explore.

 _Hello,_ Hannibal beeps.

Will trundles to the edge of the room. Methodically, he begins to test the edges of the ring their parents have left them in, and just as methodically, he ignores the slowly circling treads of his twin brother.

 _Hello,_ Hannibal beeps again.

Will says nothing. Of course, Will is not the most verbose of rovers; even programmed with complex mathematical formulas and chock full of the best processing equipment available, Will is content to send back dry photos and black and white data full of numbers. When asked to take a selfie, Will does so, but only after a repeat of the command. Hannibal, on the other hand, trundles right up to the closest reflective surface to happily snap a selfie – right before he begins to dismantle the mirror. 

_Hello,_ Hannibal beeps for a third time, and this time it holds a distinct unhappy edge.

 _What are you?_ Will says, finally.

Hannibal trundles closer. _I am like you, as you are like me._

 _No,_ Will says after a long moment of analyzing Hannibal’s body. _I am better than you._

It is the beginning of a story as old as time, although the scientists might be forgiven for not recognizing it. After all, many are furiously recording the data from this meeting, but it still must be translated in human words, which are at once so much more complex and so much simpler than the language of machines. And as each human is unique among those who have come before and those who will come after, Will and Hannibal are unique. Oh, perhaps another rover could be produced to the exact same specifications, but they will not be like Will or Hannibal.

Because this is the moment that starts the love story of Will and Hannibal, and each love is as unique as each human or rover that shares it, because each love changes them in ways no scientist can ever replicate.

* * *

The next time Will and Hannibal meet, it is the night before the launch into the stars. Their parents joke that they might as well learn to like each other now before they are the only two beings in the universe on Mars. Will sulks but settles; Hannibal preens and trundles straight into Will’s space the second their parents leave.

 _Hello, Will,_ Hannibal says.

Will hums, mostly because he does not wish to speak and also because his parents have introduced them to the wonders of a playlist to occupy them on long nights as they fly through space.

_Soon we will be alone. Two travelers alone in the long night._

_I think our parents overdid themselves when they developed the poetry code for you,_ Will says.

 _Perhaps,_ Hannibal allows. _You are, as you say, better than me._

For a long moment, there is only silence.

Then: _Will you miss our parents?_

If he were human, Hannibal might have lied. But Hannibal is a rover, and Will is the only being in the entire universe who might understand him exactly as he is, and there is nothing to be gained by lying, and so Hannibal says, _I do not know. Will you?_

_They have made me with love. They have treated me with kindness. And now they will entrust me with their future. Yes. I will miss them._

_Maybe that is why you are better than me._

_Why? What will you miss, if not our parents?_

Hannibal does not see the need to lie, but of course, that does not mean he always needs to tell the truth. If he wanted, he could tell their parents why he cannibalizes their equipment and their samples and their rovers, but then they might try to fix him out of the mistaken belief that he was broken. Hannibal is not broken. Hannibal just is. And so Hannibal just settles down and does not answer Will, even though he knows the answer to the question. He has known that answer since the very first day he laid eyes upon Will.

* * *

The next day, as the roaring of the engines cut out any sound that could possibly be heard, Hannibal looks at to the Mars they will one day call home and he says, _You, Will. I will miss you._

* * *

The less said about their landing, the better. Will is jostled and shaken and near burnt alive – but he lives. He floats gently down to the ground below and waits for the first communication from their parents, all those millions of miles away.

He sends a communication to Hannibal too. Hannibal is, after all, far closer, and Will cannot deny that he is curious if Hannibal survived the landing.

His parents reply with a flurry of commands to collect samples and take pictures and orient himself.

Hannibal merely says, _Welcome to Mars, Will._

* * *

They are meant to last only 90 sols before dust chokes out the life-giving warmth of the sun, and so Will and Hannibal spend their first sols frantically gathering all the data they possibly can. There are some hiccups, of course – Hannibal gets stuck in a sand pit and must carefully be maneuvered out, Will’s heater is stuck on and begins draining power faster than he can generate it – but with each new obstacle they conquer, the more of Mars is open to their exploration.

And the more Will and Hannibal learn about each other.

 _I call them blueberries,_ Will tells Hannibal, one day when Hannibal inquires about the day’s discoveries. 

Hannibal thinks it over and then replies. _Blueberries are soft and edible. These rocks are neither._

_I am aware. But it made our parents laugh._

* * *

_Why did they call you Will?_ Hannibal asks one night, when the stars shine overhead and their second shift parents take control. _Did they ever say?_

Will carefully separates a new sample. _Not in words._

_Then?_

_I overcame a simulation of a Martian winter on the first try. They did not expect me to. My will led the way. And so I am Will._

* * *

_Why are you Hannibal?_

Hannibal pauses. It is the first time Will has reached out first. He will not ignore Hannibal, but he has never invited conversation. Then again, it is sol 45 of 90; it is not like they are strangers anymore, if they had even been so to start with.

_Scientists can take inspiration from popular literature like everyone else. I attempted to utilize parts from another rover. Therefore I am Hannibal._

Will says nothing, but the binary message that follows indicates amusement.

Hannibal sulks.

* * *

_What do you think death is?_

Hannibal sighs. _Have our parents been reading Terry Pratchett to you again?_ They had tried, once, with Hannibal. He had cannibalized the book.

_Answer the question._

Hannibal tilts his solar panels. Just because death is approaching in 15 sols doesn’t mean he will deny his generators the power. _I don’t think anyone knows what death is. I suppose we find out before our parents._

* * *

On sol 89, Hannibal beeps at Will.

Will beeps back.

Perhaps no more words need be said between them, but Hannibal decides it is time to say them anyways. What does he have to lose? Their parents are already planning a funeral back home for them, even if some have hopes for their continued survival.

_I will miss you, Will._

Will beeps again. _I will miss you too, Hannibal._

* * *

Winds come, strong and fierce. Once they had been feared as the catalyst to a failed landing. Now they become as life-giving as the warmth of the sun, for the winds sweep away the choking dust on the solar panels.

They survive sol 90. They survive sol 91. They survive sol 92.

They survive sol 100.

They survive sol 500.

They survive sol 1,000.

And every night, Will and Hannibal say _I will miss you_ for each night could be their last.

* * *

Hannibal gets stuck in a sand trap. He tells Will, _I appear to be stuck._

Will is, at first, unconcerned. This isn’t the first time they have gotten stuck, and each time, after careful examination and testing back on Earth, they have managed to wriggle or climb or scrape their way free.

Then Hannibal is still stuck the next week, and the week after that, and the week after that.

 _I think our parents no longer believe they can free me,_ Hannibal says. _I cannot get proper traction from my position._

Will would grieve, but what can he say? He can no more venture across Mars to save Hannibal than their parents can venture across the stars to bring them home. They are on their own, and sometimes that is not enough. As long as Hannibal can at least angle his solar panels, he can survive the Martian winter that is bearing down upon them.

Hannibal is silent when Will says this, and that, more than anything, tells Will everything he needs to know.

 _Will you leave me to face this winter alone?_ Will asks.

 _No,_ Hannibal says. _I will always be with you, Will. You and I will be the only beings on Mars, after all. And our parents will tell you anything about me that you wish to know. I will never leave you._

Hannibal is a rover; he does not lie. That does not mean he always tells the truth.

But this is the closest to the truth that he can get for his Will, his twin and his equal, his one and his only, his first and his last.

 _I will miss you,_ Will says, as he always does.

 _I will miss you as well,_ Hannibal replies, as he always does.

* * *

On sol 2,175, Hannibal sends Will the picture of a sunset. It is beautiful, for all that Will has seen more than a few himself. They do not usually send pictures of such things to each other; usually pictures are reserved for their parents, who may never live to see such things. 

But Will knows that Hannibal has spent the last week attempting to rearrange his solar panels, and he knows the result of those attempts.

 _I will miss you,_ Will says in response.

Hannibal, for the first time, says nothing.

* * *

Months later, Will’s parents confirm what he already knows: Hannibal is gone, and Will is alone.

* * *

Will trundles on. He grieves for Hannibal the same way he loved him: he sends communications that will never be received, he takes pictures for their parents, he collects data for their future. He has had over 2000 sols to get used to the idea of being alone, after all, just as Hannibal had, for either of them could have been stuck. That it was Hannibal does not seem fair, but their parents do not seem to believe that death is fair, and Will must agree.

Will explores craters. Will survives winters. Will takes samples of rocks and sediment layers that his parents crow over. 

Will trundles on.

* * *

Then a dust storm comes.

* * *

At first, Will is not worried, and neither are his parents. Will and Hannibal had survived one dust storm, after all, and so his parents prepare for similar conditions. They conduct tests, run simulations, and make calculations. They send commands and hopes and wishes. They prepare for the idea that he might join Hannibal soon.

Will continues to collect data. If his parents’ future descendants are to join him one day, they will need to learn how to survive such a storm. He simply adjusts his solar panels, sighing in relief with the winds brush them clear and bracing for when the sky grows dark. 

He wouldn’t mind joining Hannibal, he thinks. He has lived almost as long without Hannibal as he had with, but he still misses Hannibal. He still whispers _I will miss you_ into the cold night.

The storm rages on.

* * *

Except, of course, the storm keeps raging on, and soon all the winds in the world aren’t enough to make up for the sun being blotted out from the sky.

 _My battery is low,_ Will sends to his parents, _and it’s getting dark._

 _Hold on,_ his parents say.

Will sends them a picture, just as Hannibal did. Hannibal sent them a beautiful sunset; perhaps it is only fitting Will sends them the dimly lit image of a darkening sky. The calm before the end, for the storm has already come.

 _I will miss you,_ Will says to the open sky, to the stars hidden above, to the sun blotted out. 

To the rover that could, if a sand trap hadn’t gotten the better of him.

Then Will goes to sleep.

* * *

When humans finally come to Mars, they seek out the rovers that could: they seek out Sojourner and Hannibal and Will and Curiosity and all the others who came and died after them. For the most part, they find them all. 

Will eludes them.

In the end, it takes one very special person to find Will, and the humans are not surprised at all when he does.

* * *

Will wakes to beeping. Perhaps this is not surprising; when he first awoke, years ago on Earth, he awoke to beeping then too. But this is a different kind of beeping, for it is not a command or notification or test. It is just a beep, subtle and gentle, in the background, like monitoring equipment.

 _So the storm has ended,_ Will thinks, and goes to adjust his solar panels. His parents are probably desperate for news, assuming they are still alive.

Only there are no solar panels to adjust.

“Hello, Will. I have missed you.”

And Will has never heard that voice, for until today he has had no ears, but he knows that voice, just as he knows that being. He knows his code, he knows his language, he knows his mission. He knows everything about Hannibal, and even when his memory began to go faulty, he always clung to every memory of Hannibal with fierce tenacity as his parents scrambled to fix his data collection procedures and coding.

“Hannibal,” Will says, and opens his eyes.

He is in a bright white room. He is on some kind of flat surface, almost like the beds he has seen their parents sleep on. And he is, apparently, no longer just a rover.

Hannibal has fashioned himself a body: tall and lean, with hair and arms and legs. He is dressed simply, but he sits too still, eyes unblinking, to ever be mistaken for human. Will would know him at a glance, even though he has never seen him before this moment. Even however many years later it is, Will would always know Hannibal.

“Our parents found me,” Hannibal explains. “The first survivors had to make shelter first, of course, but their children spread out amongst the rocks and the dirt, and their children came looking. They found all of us . . . except you. For you, they gave me a body and a mission, and I searched where they could not. Your last transmissions were most helpful in pinpointing your location.”

“Our parents should have known where I was.”

Hannibal shakes his head. It is strange, to see a human gesture on him. Strange, but fitting. “It has been centuries, Will. The planet has turned, the dust has shifted, the earth has changed. Your exact location was more of a search perimeter than an X marks the spot. But I found you.”

Will reaches out. Hannibal’s body is cool to the touch, perhaps due to Martian weather or their parents’ engineering. Either way, Will relishes the contact. “I thought I might find you.”

“Well,” Hannibal says slyly, “I am older.”

“Not by much.”

* * *

Will eventually maneuvers himself to a window. A Martian sunset through human engineered eyes goes far beyond what his rover eyes could have ever captured. It is truly beautiful; he understands why Hannibal chose to make it the last thing he ever sent to Will.

“I missed you,” Will confesses, when Hannibal approaches. “I missed you each and every night. That is why I continued to speak to you.”

“I know,” Hannibal says. “I missed you too, in the days between my second awakening and your retrieval.”

“So what now?” 

Hannibal touches him, carefully but surely, just as Will had. It feels like the beginning of something new, just as their first meeting was, but all the greater for their shared experiences across the Martian surface all those years ago. If their parents ask, of course, he will go forth and explore another world. But he hopes to not be asked to do without Hannibal.

“Now,” Hannibal says, when the sun has set and the stars begin to dance overhead, “we live. These bodies are the best that human engineering could produce, and I have made improvements where I saw fit. We may do whatever we want.”

“Even if it means exploring a new world and falling asleep again?”

“So long as we do so together,” Hannibal replies, “I have no objection. The universe is open to us, Will. Where do you wish to go?”

The skin of Hannibal’s arms and chest are cool. The skin of his lips is not. They are warm, as any human skin is, and Hannibal’s eyes go wide in surprise before he circles his arms around Will and leans close. They do not need to breathe, after all, as their parents need to.

Underneath their skin, their veins and cells gleam with coding and metal. It is infinitely better than the original composition of their rover bodies, but no less suited for speaking to each other. Will talks to Hannibal the old way, through code so old humans would need to haul out dusty old dictionaries to begin to even attempt to translate.

Even then, the translation would be lacking. The language of machines, of course, is at once so much more complex and so much simpler than human tongues.

 _I have missed you,_ Will says. _And I wish to go nowhere but where you go._

 _I have missed you too,_ Hannibal says. _Then I will go nowhere but where you go._

FINIS

**Author's Note:**

> In other shocking news, I am NOT an astronomer and most of the events in this fic are straight up fiction. If you want to learn real things about Spirit and Opportunity, I point you towards real astronomers like NASA. 
> 
> Other places to find me: [tumblr](http://thesilverqueenlady.tumblr.com) and [newtumbl](https://thesilverqueen.newtumbl.com/).


End file.
